Crash and Burn
by Caitlin51
Summary: After a lab accident, Jemma Simmons discovered that she had developed a form of supernatural powers. She couldn't deal with this new discovery alone, so she searches out others like her. Namely, the the fiery Grant Ward. BioSpecialist AU, companion fic to "Monsters in your Head" by therealshawn.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hello everyone! So, I decided that even though the BioSpecialist ship is pretty much dead, I'm still going to write what should have been. Anyway, this will be an AU featuring superpowers (as per the summary)._

_IMPORTANT NOTE: This fic is co-authored by __**therealshawn**__, and she and I are also co-authoring the other side of this fic on her account. It is called __**"Monsters in your Head" **__and shows this same story from the Skitz viewpoint. I strongly suggest reading them both! This fic will be a complete story by itself, as will the other one, but they will complement each other, give you scenes that you normally wouldn't see, and give you large parts of the story that happen when the characters are split up._

_Anyway, enjoy this first chapter and leave a review!_

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><p>The music coming through the iPod speakers soothed Jemma as she stood in the bathtub, letting the warm water wash off the chemical decontaminant still coating her skin.<p>

It had been quite a day. First, her experiment had failed after countless days of testing, so she had been forced to stay in the lab late to try and isolate the problem. Well, not forced, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to take her mind off the issue and focus on anything else until she had figured out what had gone so terribly wrong..

Fitz, being that good friend he was, had stayed with her, and that's when things had become even worse.

"You already showered at the lab. I don't see what shampoo is going to do that the soap there didn't."

Fitz's voice, coming from outside the door, startled her and she nearly slipped, but caught herself with a hand on the side of the tub. "Go away, Fitz," she ordered, though without malice. She had showered in the lab after the rather spectacular explosion, (which was obviously Fitz's fault), but she could still smell the acrid scent of decontaminant in her hair. And besides, the warm spray was soothing after the stress of failure and a long, hard day.

The sound of Fitz slamming cabinets in the kitchen broke into her concentration and she sighed, realizing that he was probably going to need her help soon.

Reluctantly, she turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, automatically reaching for the fluffy brown towel she always kept hanging on the hook right outside the bathtub.

"Jemma!" Fitz bellowed from the living room. "Did you move the popcorn again?"

She rolled her eyes and shouted back, "One second, Fitz." She wrapped the large towel around her body, leaving her wet hair loose and dripping on her shoulders.

Changing into the fresh clothes she had brought into the bathroom with her - just sweats and a loose T-shirt - she looked into the mirror and took a deep, calming breath. It frustrated her that she still couldn't figure out the problem with her experiment, and, no matter what she did, she just couldn't let it lie.

Turning on the ceiling fan to defog the mirror and yanking a comb through her wet, tangled hair, she strolled out of the bathroom and into the living room, her eyes automatically landing on her bag, resting on the couch. Her detailed notes on the experiment and the explosion were there, and she wanted to take another look now that she had fresh eyes.

Fitz gaped at her from his position on the couch in front of the TV. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw "Agents of SHIELD" playing on ABC. She gave him a funny look in response to his expression, but he didn't seem to notice.

Defensively, she reached for her bag and told him, "I'm just going to go over the experiment one more time, and then we can watch your silly show." She plopped down on the couch next to him as she pulled out the folder containing her research and observations.

His eyes only widened, if that was possible. "Er, Jemma?"

"Oh come on, Fitz, I said this was the last time," she replied, crossing her arms in front of her. "And then I promise that I'll put it down. Okay?"

"No, uh, Jemma, I think that-"

"-I'll be really fast, Fitz, I promise," she interrupted, the folder already open on her lap.

He cut her off, pointing impatiently at her right side, "Your arm, Jemma!"

Narrowing her eyes in confusion, Jemma glanced down at her arms and gasped in surprise as she noticed only one was visible. "Oh no," she muttered in dismay. "That's not right."

"Not right? Jemma, your arm is gone! I don't - what happened?"

"I can still feel it," she continued, ignoring him and wiggling her invisible arm. The folder slid off her lap, but she barely noticed. "It's never done that before."

Fitz threw his arms up in exasperation. "Oh, well that's okay then. As long it's never happened before then it's totally - -Jemma! Your _arm _is _missing_!Could you please quit being so calm?"

"I wonder," she mumbled thoughtfully, focusing her attention on her invisible appendage and trying to figure out if she could isolate the cause and possibly even replicate it, all thoughts of the failed experiment vanishing from her mind.

"Yes, well, I wonder, too. But I am experiencing a healthy amount of panic, and not just gazing at my nonexistent arm like it's the best thing since CERN invented the Large Hadron Collider." He continued muttering something about "crazy biochemists," but she easily tuned him out.

"This is amazing," she breathed, as her other arm also vanished as she turned her attention to it. "Could I be doing something to the light particles in my immediate vicinity? That seems unlikely, but no other hypotheses are coming to mind." Fitz and everything else around her faded into the background as she pondered the fascinating phenomenon in front of her. "I have to get back to the lab," she finally announced.

Fitz's irritated grumbling followed her out the door.

**...Two Weeks Later…**

"So, we can cross Sally Markson off our list," Jemma sighed and scratched the name of their latest lead off the paper in front of her. The list now contained more black sharpie marks than names.

"Jemma, I hate to be discouraging," she shot him a pointed look, but he continued anyway, "but that's the thirty-seventh 'lead' we've had that's turned out to be nothing. We've been all over the state looking for something that might not even be there."

"It will be," she promised. She took a bite of the ceasar salad in front of her and chewed slowly, gathering her thoughts. Finally, she added, "Just think, Fitz, about the chance we have. This is groundbreaking research, of course it's gonna take a bit of effort. And besides, we still have three names to go." She kept her tone positive, not wanting Fitz to see that she was feeling slightly disappointed in their progress as well. After all, they had been dedicated to this project for a full two weeks already without so much as a breakthrough.

"G. Thomas. Suspected pyrokinesis. Last known...Jemma, this report is eighteen years old," Fitz pulled the notebook from her and started to read the next item on her list around the half-chewed fry in his mouth, but stopped as he realized that there was even less on Thomas than there had been on Markson, and Markson had died five years ago.

"But our next best lead," she insisted firmly. "The others have even less information than this one."

"You do realize that just because other files have 'even less information' that doesn't make this one a solid lead, right? Jemma, I just think you're going to be disappointed when none of this pans out." She knew that Fitz was just being his usual, pragmatic self, but there was a part of her that resented the fact that he wasn't nearly as excited about this project as she was.

She leaned in, her eyes bright. "No, Fitz, I have a feeling about this one. Please? If he doesn't work out, we can take a break." _At least for a little while_, she amended her statement silently. In light of recent events, this wasn't something that she could just give up on, especially if there was still a chance of success. A slim chance, admittedly, but a chance nonetheless.

Fitz sighed dramatically and pointed to Thomas' name. "Okay, fine. But this is the last one.

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><p><em>Please review!<em>


	2. Chapter 2

_A/N: Yay, we're back with Chapter 2! I promise that Ward will actually be in the next chapter and then things will start heating up and getting really fun..._

_IMPORTANT NOTE: This fic is co-authored by __**therealshawn**__, and she and I are also co-authoring the other side of this fic on her account. It is called __**"Monsters in your Head" **__and shows this same story from the Skitz viewpoint. I strongly suggest reading them both! This fic will be a complete story by itself, as will the other one, but they will complement each other, give you scenes that you normally wouldn't see, and give you large parts of the story that happen when the characters are split up._

_Anyway, enjoy!_

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><p>"Anything? An address? A neighbourhood, even?" Jemma knew that she was grasping at straws, but this visiting his childhood neighbourhood was her last lead on G. Thomas.<p>

The wrinkly man shook his head, his eyes sad. "Sorry. Can't help you."

"No, I don't think you understand. We _have _to find him. It's a matter of the utmost urgency." It really was, at least to Jemma. Finding the tiny little town of Ward, NY had taken a fair amount of time and she didn't know what the next step would be if this town didn't pan out.

"What, he owe you money or something?"

"Or something." Fitz piped up. She could tell that he was eager to get out of there.

"Do you at least have some idea of where else we could look?" Trying hard to keep the exasperation out of her voice, Jemma tried one last question.

"Listen, last I heard the boy was living in the City. Up near Brooklyn. But that was ten years ago," he said, sighing and obviously ready to end the conversation.

Jemma cast a hopeful look at Fitz as the old man shoved his hands in his pockets and stared off into space, obviously wishing they would leave his tiny book shop. "Finally, our first real lead."

As the old man obviously was not going to offer them any more information and was practically sweeping them out the door, Jemma didn't fight to get him to open up with information that she suspected he was withholding.

Fitz thanked the shopkeeper as the door banged closed behind him, but Jemma barely noticed.

"Well, that went well," there was real excitement in her voice. "I knew that someone here had to recognize him."

"Yeah, this is...really great. We've now narrowed it down to 'possibly up near Brooklyn'."

"Oh, perk up Fitz. We've finally found something concrete to go on." She didn't expect him to be particularly excited about this process, but it frustrated her that he refused to do more than follow along behind her and complain.

"So what's the next step? We can't just canvass neighborhoods," Fitz pointed out, his voice hopeful - not hope for their search, but hope that she would give up on her mission. She knew him too well to be fooled.

She smiled smugly. "No, but I know where we could go."

…

"Miss, I'm sorry, I really don't think I'm allowed to-"

"-but I would _really_ appreciate _anything_ you could do," she batted her eyelashes in her best attempt at flirtation. It felt ridiculous. "You see, he's my ex and he kept my favourite...my favourite," she wracked her brain for something that would make sense for a former boyfriend to keep, "hat." Mentally, she smacked herself, but there was nothing she could do about it now. "Yes, my favourite hat, and I just need to find him and get it back. It's an heirloom." She flashed him a winning smile, hoping to hide her pathetic lying skills.

"I understand, ma'am, I really do, I just," he tentatively and awkwardly reached out and patted her arm. "But I don't want to risk my job or anything." He tapped the police badge on his police uniform proudly with one finger.

She leaned over onto his desk and smiled even more widely, if that was possible. She pushed all thoughts from her mind about how much of an idiot she probably looked like right now. At least Fitz was still in the bathroom and wouldn't see her. "I won't tell," she promised softly, leaning towards him. "And besides, I like men who can bend a little rule like that. Sometimes. I mean, most of the time, I really like rules, but," she finally cut herself off, realizing that she was babbling, "It's...hot?"

Despite her awkwardness, the officer smiled secretively at her and winked slowly. "In return for your number?"

Jemma had to stop herself from starting in surprise that her plan had worked. "Er, what? I mean, yes," she corrected herself, returning his wink. "Yes. My number. To call me." She laughed and picked up a pad of paper on his desk and scrawled her number on it along with her first name.

"Any luck?" The sound of Fitz's voice startled her and she whirled around.

"Fitz! What have I told you about sneaking on me?" she admonished. She gestured at the man behind the desk and flashed him a huge smile. "And yes, this nice young officer is going to help us find... my ex."

Fitz looked confused, but fortunately didn't question her story.

"So Miss Simmons, who's this? Your brother?" the officer asked. There was a tinge of jealousy in his voice.

Jemma raised her eyebrow and was about to say no, but then she realized that would just ruin all the flirting she had just worked so hard to do. "Yes!" she blurted out. "This is my Fitz. I mean...my brother. My brother, Fitz. Fitz...Simmons…"

"I-" Fitz started to say indignantly, but she stomped on his foot. Hard. "Yes! I am...Fitz Simmons. Nice to meet you," he added with only a touch of resentment in his voice.

With a wink at Jemma, the cop pointedly ignored the hand Fitz offered and said, "So, Jemma_, _let me, uh, see what I can find for you. I'll be back in just a second."

"You're a life-saver," she praised him, forcing herself to sound peppy.

The officer nodded at her and walked off jauntily.

"So, _Jemma,_" Fitz emphasized her name, "what was that all about?"

"Oh nothing," she deflected the question, avoiding Fitz's gaze. "I was just convincing him to...share the files that we need."

"And how did you convince him?"

"I...was friendly? And smiled?" she tried to say convincingly, but she didn't even believe herself. "Most people are really cooperative when you're nice. You should try it sometime!"

"You gave him your number, didn't you?"

"I...no, of course not!"

The young officer returned, a black file in his hands. "Hello, again," he grinned charmingly. So...I have a file here on suspicious, unexplained fires and fire-related events in north Brooklyn. Unfortunately, I have to go on break right now. And I'm not going to take this file with me. I'm going to leave it on the desk," the file hit the desk with a thump, "but that in no way means that you should open it. I have to caution you, that file is official police property, and under no circumstances should you pay particular attention to the incident report on pages four through six." He crossed his arms over his chest and waited expectantly.

"Of course not. We understand completely," Jemma nodded, her hands itching to grab the file and find the information she needed.

"But you should…" the officer continued, clearing his throat noisily,"Uh...you should be expecting a phone call. About...dinner. A very important phone call about dinner."

"Er, yes," she agreed, very pointedly not looking at Fitz. "I'm looking-" she cut herself off as she realized that the man had already walked away. "Okay, then. The file."

Trying not to look suspicious, Jemma casually flipped open the file to the pages he had indicated, her eyes rapidly scanning the words to find the relevant information. The chances of finding G. Thomas were slim, but she was somehow still hopeful that this would be the break that she needed. One particular address caught her gaze and she read the description of the the incident. Something about the witness's statement... Sucking in a deep breath, she commented, "Look Fitz, there," she stabbed the page with her finger triumphantly. "This is him. I just know it!"

...

It was getting worse.

The flames rose around him, licking at the exposed skin of his forearms and heating his internal temperature far above what was considered normal.

It should hurt.

It didn't. Not physically, at least. It was the raging emotions churning inside him that were much more painful, much more terrifying. The lack of control, the anger, the fear.

The fire engulfed him entirely.

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><p><em>Please leave a review!<em>


	3. Chapter 3

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far! Here's Chapter 3 - enjoy! _

_IMPORTANT NOTE: This fic is co-authored by __**therealshawn**__, and she and I are also co-authoring the other side of this fic on her account. It is called __**"Monsters in your Head" **__and shows this same story from the Skitz viewpoint. I strongly suggest reading them both! This fic will be a complete story by itself, as will the other one, but they will complement each other, give you scenes that you normally wouldn't see, and give you large parts of the story that happen when the characters are split up._

_Anyway, enjoy!_

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><p>She knocked loudly on the door, feeling the peeling paint scratch her knuckles, already sore from knocking on what felt like millions of doors. "This has to be it, Fitz," she repeated what she had been telling him for the past two hours. "And this one even smells like smoke."<p>

"I think that might be the man with the cigarette, but okay."

"Positive attitude, Fitz," she scolded. "It's only the third floor; we can't give up yet." The faded gold letters glinting in the weak evening light next to the door informed them that they were standing in front of 305.

"Maybe they didn't hear you." Fitz knocked again on the door.

"Can I help you?" A low voice broke into their conversation.

"Oh, erm, yes." Jemma turned and saw a tall, powerfully built man standing behind them. He radiated an intensity that immediately unnerved her. However, she refused to be put off her goal that easily. "Do you live here?"

"Why?"

"Well, we're looking for someone," she smiled, trying to make the stranger warm up to her, and pulled out the faded newspaper picture. "Have you seen him?"

The man didn't even glance at the photograph. "No." He brushed past them and jammed his key into the lock, then turned the doorknob with considerably more force than necessary.

"His name's G. Thomas," Jemma continued, eager to get some information before he disappeared into his apartment. "Does that sound familiar?" The man's unreasonable agitation suggested to her that he knew more than he was letting on.

"Never heard of him."

"You didn't look."

The man turned to glare at her. "Leave me alone," he ordered, his voice cold, but Jemma could hear the thinly-veiled irritation behind the command.

"Look," she tried, changing tactics, "it's really important that he find him. He has...he has a problem." She bit her lip, trying to think of the best way to describe their urgency without giving anything away. "And I think I may be able to help him."

Conflicting emotions struggled across the man's face and he seemed to almost waver, but then the expressionless mask was back in the blink of an eye. "Can't help you."

The door slammed in her face.

"That...went well."

"He's hiding something. No one is that...disagreeable. Not without a reason."

"Or maybe he just has a borderline personality disorder." She shot him a sharp look, clearly indicating her disapproval of his negativity. "Come on. One more apartment before dinner?"

She nodded. There was still a chance that they could find G. Thomas before the end of the day, and she planned to succeed.

…

His hands were shaking. That was always the first sign.

Sparks appeared, dancing around his knuckles and illuminating his immediate vicinity, a sharp contrast to the darkness of the small apartment.

Anxious to regain control, he stood up from his seat on the small, battered couch and started pacing angrily around the living room with angry strides. It helped to focus his aggression on something else. Anything else.

"_His name's G. Thomas," _the woman's words came back to him. He hadn't gone by that name for a long time, but the sound of it had still set him off; he had nearly lost control right then and there and incinerated both of them. They didn't even know how close to a fiery death they had come.

"_He has...he has a problem." _Well, he couldn't contest that one, not if he was being honest.

His hands were completely engulfed in flames now, but he barely even noticed. It was normal enough now that it didn't draw his attention anymore.

"_And I think I may be able to help him._" There was a part of him that wanted to believe her, to believe that she really could somehow help him. But logically, he knew that there was nothing she could do. She was just some pretty girl who was too curious for her own good and was poking her nose around in other people's business. Chances are, she was going to get hurt if she kept it up.

The flames traveled up his arms, flaring even brighter as they fed on the material of his cheap black shirt.

For some reason, the thought of her getting hurt upset him. But that was ridiculous. She was nothing to him. At least, she should be absolutely nothing to him. But, there was something about her that drew him in, that intrigued him in a way that was strange and unfamiliar.

Throwing that name around in such a careless manner was going to attract the attention of some pretty nasty people, people who wouldn't believe that she had no idea what she was getting herself into. People who would hurt her, or even kill her, with next to no provocation. And that little geek she was with wouldn't be able to do a thing to stop them.

Taking a deep breath, the man glanced outside the window, realizing that the sun had set a few minutes earlier and that the streets were bathed in darkness. All the streetlights in this part of town had long since burned out.

Guilt gnawed at him. A girl that pretty and defenseless, out in these streets at night, was practically asking for a mugging. Or worse.

The fire dancing over his skin vanished as suddenly as it had appeared. Glancing down, he noticed that it was only the sleeves of his shirt that had been charred away and a couple small patches on his side. Good enough.

He left his apartment and went out into the night, keeping his ears open for any sign of shady activity.

He never claimed to be a good guy. But sometimes, even the bad guys have to do the right thing.

...

"Fitz, do you see that man? Is he following us? Nervously, Jemma checked over her shoulder, feeling the skin on the back of her neck crawl as she caught sight of the shadowy figure that had been tailing them ever since they left the apartment building.

"I think so, actually. I noticed him a couple minutes ago." "He's scaring me," she admitted, holding her purse closer to her body and walking more quickly. Her car wasn't that much further, but the alley felt like it stretched out endlessly in front of her, shadowed and ominous.

*trying to be reassuring but secretly panicking* "Maybe he's just walking to the same place we are."

"Yeah," she agreed breathily, shooting another anxious glance behind them. "I'm sure that's it. I mean, I sometimes wear all black as well, so that's not necessarily cause to panic and assume he's a serial killer."

"Yeah."

They walked for a while in silence, Jemma gratefully noticing and pointing out to Fitz that the man who she thought was following them had vanished. She had barely voiced that thought when a filthy young man stepped out of the shadows and directly into their path. In one shaky hand, he gripped a knife, which he waved at Jemma. "Give me your purse." Then he gestured at Fitz, "And I want your wallet. And your watch. Give me your watch, too."

"Fitz?" Jemma asked, feeling panic well up inside, replacing her brief period of complacency.

"No talking," the man snapped, waving his knife hand wildly. "Just hand it over."

Beside her, Fitz brought his wallet out of his pocket and handed it to the mugger, then started fiddling with the clasp on his watch.

With trembling fingers, Jemma started to hand over her purse, but then her eyes widened as she noticed that her arm was invisible. "Oh no," she breathed, quickly shifting her purse to her other hand and hiding the invisible one behind her back. Even as she stared at her left arm, it slowly faded into nothingness as well.

It took a moment for the man in front of them to notice, but as she dropped her purse and hid her other arm behind her back too, she saw his eyes widen. His hands started to shake even more, and he jabbed the knife towards her with renewed aggression. "What are you doing?"

"N...nothing," she stuttered, glancing helplessly at Fitz, hoping he would realize what was going on and come to her rescue. She did not want word of her abilities getting out.

"Hey! Hey, man. Look...look at me!" Jemma heard Fitz try to distract the mugger, but her attention was completely focused on trying not to disappear entirely. "What else do you want, besides my watch?"

"What's happening to her legs?" the mugger demanded, his eyes widening as he stared at Jemma.

"Her legs?" Fitz rambled desperately."Nothing's happening to her legs. Wh...what have you been...smoking?"

"That's enough," the man yelled, darting towards Jemma with his knife still extended.

She screamed, feeling the knife blade nick her arm as she tried to dodge out of the way. It was disconcerting to see blood dripping out of the air from her invisible shoulder.

Then, suddenly, someone else was there. A tall, well-built man dressed all in black tackled the mugger, sending both their bodies slamming into the pavement.

Standing there, stunned, Jemma watched as the second man gripped the knife in their assailant's hand, trying to yank it free.

She felt Fitz's arm wrap around her still visible waist and start tugging her away, but she felt like she was glued to the ground, her eyes intent on the scene before her.

Something strange was happening. As the two men struggled for possession of the weapon in front of her disbelieving eyes, the knife blade starting glowing a cherry red. The mugger yelped and dropped it, then scrambled to his feet and pelted off, dropping Fitz's stolen possessions in his haste.

"Thank you," Jemma said fervently, stepping towards the man who had saved them after checking to make sure she was visible again.

The man turned, the shadows melting away. It was the rude man from the apartment earlier.

Jemma started at him, stunned.

He turned around and walked away.

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><p><em>Please leave a review!<em>


	4. Chapter 4

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed , followed, or favourited - you guys are the best! This chapter was a fun one to write =)._

_IMPORTANT NOTE: This fic is co-authored by __**therealshawn**__, and she and I are also co-authoring the other side of this fic on her account. It is called __**"Monsters in your Head" **__and shows this same story from the Skitz viewpoint. I strongly suggest reading them both! This fic will be a complete story by itself, as will the other one, but they will complement each other, give you scenes that you normally wouldn't see, and give you large parts of the story that happen when the characters are split up._

_Anyway, enjoy!_

* * *

><p>"Jemma. Jemma! Are you okay?" Jemma heard Fitz's voice, but she didn't respond. Couldn't respond. Her brain was too busy trying to process everything that had just happened. "Did he - oh my - oh, you're bleeding. Jemma, he stabbed you." She glanced down at her arm, a part of her remembering that the knife had nicked her, but it didn't really hurt. "Your arm is bleeding, we need to get you to -"<p>

"Wait!" she finally called, starting after the man's retreating figure without consciously realizing that she was moving. Her brain had caught up, and she knew that she needed to talk to him before he disappeared.

"Where are you going? Jemma?"

"Come back!" she cried, ignoring Fitz's question.

"Seriously?"

"You won't believe this, Fitz," she chattered excitedly, breaking into a run, "but he has powers too! I saw them."

"What?" Fitz demanded, falling behind her now that she had sped up.

"The knife," she explained breathlessly, half-looking behind her at him. "It started glowing, red-hot. Like he was somehow heating the metal."

"That doesn't - we didn't-" he protested, but she heard his pace speed up until he was running after her. "Okay, let's go."

Jemma caught a glimpse of the man's face as he turned around to look at them, apparently aware that they were following him. Their eyes met for a brief moment before he broke the contact and started running. However, in that brief connection, she saw glimmers of fear in his gaze.

She knew that she had no chance of catching him at this point, so she stopped, panting for breath.

"Isn't his apartment that way?" Fitz asked, pointing behind them as he pulled up beside her.

"Wha-? she panted, glancing briefly at him. "Oh, yes. Yes it is."

...

"What do you think you're doing?" a menacing voice broke into Jemma's slumber.

Blinking, she peered up at a large figure blocking the sun, her brain still too fuzzy from sleep to identify why the person seemed annoyed. "Sleeping," she mumbled honestly, half-stifling a yawn.

"That's my apartment," the man growled, pointing at the door that she was leaning against. "Why are you here?"

Everything clicked in Jemma's brain at once and she remembered the events of last night: the mugging, the knife, the decision to wait for the man at his apartment. Slowly, she sat up, wincing as muscles sore from sleeping on the ground protested the movement and looked around. Fitz was sleeping a foot away from her, somehow unbothered by their conversation. "Oh," she managed finally, "I was trying to find you."

"Wh-" he started to ask, but she cut him off.

"Last night, you were there," she started babbling excitedly, words tumbling out of her mouth, "when we were being mugged. And then you touched the knife and well, for lack of a better explanation, you heated it so that the mugger dropped it. So, I put two and two together and deduced that you have powers."

He stared at her in disbelief, then raised an eyebrow skeptically and smirked at her. "You're insane."

His comment made her sputter. "I know what I saw," she defended herself. "And you're not denying it."

"I don't have powers. Satisfied?" The man still had the annoying half-smile on his face.

She stood and crossed her arms in front of her. "We're not leaving until you admit that I'm right."

He sighed. "Look, it was dark, you were scared, you thought you saw something." His tone was reassuring, an abrupt change from his earlier rudeness. "It's a normal reaction."

"I'm serious." She refused to back down. She knew what she had seen, and she was going to get an answer. "You _are _G. Thomas, aren't you?" It would make sense - the boy that they were searching for had suspected pyrokinetic abilities, much the same type of power that this man had demonstrated last night.

"My name's Ward," he replied, meeting her gaze squarely.

"Jemma," she responded, extending a hand.

He touched it with his for the briefest of moments, barely long enough to be considered a proper handshake. His touch was hot, but Jemma didn't know if it was just her reaction to the strange attraction she felt or if he actually was warmer than most people.

"Now, can I get into my house?"

"I told you my terms."

He shook his head in frustration. "Fine. I'm leaving."

Quickly, Jemma kicked Fitz, trying to wake him up before Ward left.

"I'm coming with you," she announced, not waiting for Fitz before she caught up to Ward. "Where exactly are we going?"

"I need coffee."

"Oh, coffee, great idea! I love coffee. It will give us a chance to discuss everything."

Ward groaned, but didn't reply.

"Why...coffee?" Fitz's sleepy voice came from somewhere behind them.

"Keep up Fitz," she tossed behind her absent-mindedly, focusing on Ward. "Today's looking promising."

...

"Look, we're clearly not getting anywhere," Jemma sighed, leaning back against the rough upholstery and glaring at Ward. She knew it was petty, but she couldn't help herself. The man was being a complete dolt.

"Maybe if you'd stop following me..." he muttered darkly, his face in his hands and his bloodshot eyes staring blankly down at the table.

Jemma huffed and crossed her arms. "It's not my fault that I'm smart enough to see what's right in front of me." Leaning forward, she lowered her voice. "I know you have powers."

"We've been over this," Ward mumbled tiredly, speaking as if he was on autopilot. "I don't have powers. And you're crazy."

The insult didn't faze her. "Look, I can turn invisible," she gazed earnestly at him, "and so naturally, when I discovered that I had powers, I came searching for another gifted person. Someone like you." She had explained this to him already on their walk there, but judging by his current mental capabilities, it bore repeating.

"Where's the caffeine?" he ignored her explanation completely and looked around for Fitz, who should have been back with their drinks by then.

Frustrated, Jemma pursed her lips and looked as well, but their booth was positioned so that she couldn't get a clear view of the counter. "Fitz'll be back with it soon," she promised, but her mind wasn't on the drinks. Not at all.

Here she was, presented with the opportunity of a lifetime - the chance to study gifted individuals. However, the grumpy man in front of her was ruining everything. All she wanted was a simple blood test, a psych analysis, and possibly a DNA sample. And cooperation. That wasn't really so much to ask, was it?

"So," she restarted the conversation, "I just need a little bit of your time so I can run some tests, and see if I can find any similarities between your results and mine. That'll help me draw some preliminary conclusions."

"You sure Fizz is coming back?"

"Are you even listening to me?" Jemma asked hotly, feeling her annoyance rise. "And his name is _Fitz._" The nerve! Sure, she had been following him around for the past twelve hours, but she was a scientist. She couldn't help herself.  
>"No," he replied, shooting her an annoyed, pointed look. "Go away."<p>

"As soon as I get a blood sample," she insisted stubbornly. "And run a couple tests."

"Don't you get it?" he retorted, his voice rising to match hers. "It's not happening. In fact," he started to stand up, "I'm leaving."

"No," Jemma ordered, her eyes blazing. This was possibly her only chance to study someone similar to her, and she wasn't going to let him walk out the door without a fight.

"You don't want me around when I'm angry," he warned her, one of his hands curling into a tight fist. "And I'm getting there."

"Oh good. Finally I might actually get some sort of emotion out of you." In her irritation, she didn't think twice about throwing out the jibe. Had she thought before she spoke, she might have realized that it was probably not the best idea to add fuel to his inner fire.

Luckily, Fitz picked that moment to return to the table, distracting both Jemma and Ward from the rising tensions between them.

"Where's the coffee?" Ward demanded, his disbelieving gaze lighting on the empty tray clutched in Fitz's hands.

Jemma noticed that her friend had a faraway look in his eyes, a look that she had come to recognize. He had developed it after the accident that had given her her powers and she had come to associate it with concern for her well-being, but something else must have set it off this time.

"Decorating the front of a really beautiful woman's shirt," he answered hollowly, his gaze unfocused.

"That's it," Ward growled, jumping to his feet. Jemma noticed that he was starting to shake violently as he fought to keep his emotions under control. "I'm out." Without another word, he stormed out of the coffee shop, the welcoming bell jingling weakly in the silence of his departure.

Grinding her teeth in extreme frustration, Jemma rose as fell and tried to shoo Fitz out of the booth so that she could go after him, but he refused to move.

"What're you doing?" she demanded, debating whether or not she could successfully squeeze past him and get to Ward before he vanished. "We need him."

"No, Jemma," he said firmly, his gaze on her. "He's a dangerous man and you've very successfully irritated the absolute heck out of him. It's probably not the best plan to go after him."

She leveled her steeliest gaze at him. "Fitz," her voice was pleading, "I need to study him. I have to find out about his powers."

"To find a way to cure yours?"

Dropping her eyes, she bit her lip guiltily. She knew that Fitz was worried about her and that he wanted to make sure that she was safe, but, since the accident, she had been feeling so...alive. Excited. It wasn't something she wanted to give up. "I can't promise I'll find a solution," she hedged. "But I really need him."

Fitz sighed resignedly. "Fine. But I'm not leaving you alone with him."

Rushing past him as he stood, she barely heard his comment in her hurry to catch up to Ward, running in the direction she had seen him go.

He'd better not have vanished.

…

The anger was too close to the surface. If he had stayed for one second longer…  
>Ward shook the thought off, trying to focus instead on regulating his breathing to calm himself down. It wasn't working. It never did.<p>

The heat spread through his body, dangerously close to erupting out of him. He knew the sensation well, and his steps quickened as he fought to keep any remainder of his hard-won self control in place. The consequences of losing control in such a public place were too dire to even think of.

That idiot scientist! Why couldn't she have just left him alone? There was something about her that drove him crazy, that penetrated right through the walls he had spent years building up, leaving him angry and surprisingly vulnerable. Her unyielding persistence had driven him nearly to a breakdown for the first time in eighteen years, and it had only been twelve hours since they had met. That must be a new record, at least for him. Normally, people weren't nearly that infuriating.

A tiny flame sparked from his hand and he balled it up into a fist, looking around nervously for somewhere where he could hide.  
>An alley caught his eye, off to his left. At a casual glance, it appeared to be deserted. Perfect.<p>

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><p><em>Please leave a review!<em>


	5. Chapter 5

_A/N: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed , followed, or favourited - you guys are the best!_

_IMPORTANT NOTE: This fic is co-authored by __**therealshawn**__, and she and I are also co-authoring the other side of this fic on her account. It is called __**"Monsters in your Head" **__and shows this same story from the Skitz viewpoint. I strongly suggest reading them both! This fic will be a complete story by itself, as will the other one, but they will complement each other, give you scenes that you normally wouldn't see, and give you large parts of the story that happen when the characters are split up._

_Anyway, enjoy!_

* * *

><p>His control was diminishing with each step he took. Flames were starting to materialize around him, the flickering light casting shadows on the alley walls.<p>

The explosion wasn't far off. He could feel it building up inside of him, like the pressure builds up in a volcano before it erupts.

This alley wasn't ideal - it was right next to the coffee shop where he had left the irritating scientists, but at this point he was desperate.

The narrow pathway thankfully took a sharp right turn and led behind the shop, effectively hiding that section, containing mostly dumpsters, from the eyes of any casual pedestrians.

He rounded the corner, practically running at this point, feeling the flaming heat inside of him building up, already nearly past his breaking point.

Fire erupted in a swirling, heated mass in front of him, singing a large green dumpster and incinerating some stray bags of garbage.

The feeling was exhilarating.

Allowing his power to flow through him, through his veins, gave him a thrill like nothing else. However, the feeling was addictive and dangerous. Once he started, it was hard to stop.

The blast of fire continued, but he was gaining some control as he worked off his frustration, and was now able to channel it through his hands into a thin, concentrated stream directing at the pavement under his feet. It was starting to melt at the constant exposure to the temperature, but he figured it was better than causing irreparable damage to his surroundings.

Behind him, he heard the sound of a door open.

Immediately, he flinched and cut the stream of fire off. Whoever was behind him may not have noticed yet - at least, he hoped.

The door slammed. "Dude! Could you turn the temper tantrum down a few notches? I'm trying to work," the voice ordered from behind him.

Ward turned around and glared at the brown-haired girl who was being idiotic enough to interrupt him when he was in this state and said nothing. She was just lucky enough to arrive after the worst of it was over and when he had some semblance of control again. However, if she ticked him off too badly...

"Okay...well...not talking is better than all the shouting and slamming, I guess…" she continued, folding her arms in irritation.

"How long have you been there?" he finally demanded, shoving his hands in his pockets to hide the tendrils of smoke still emanating from them. He just hoped that she couldn't see the semi-liquid pavement in the shadows behind him.

"Been where? In this alley? My van's parked just around the corner. I was sitting there, minding my own business, when you stormed in and started trashing everything in sight, making it impossible to focus!"

"You don't want to be irritating me right now," he warned, feeling his hastily regained patience start eroding. "Get out of here."

"Oh, I don't want to be irritating you?" she demanded incredulously. "Maybe that's exactly what I want to do, Mr. Tall-Dark-and-Crazy! Besides I was here first!"

"This isn't a joke," he growled at her. She had to leave - the fire was still burning in his veins, begging to be released. "If you stay here, you're going to get hurt."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Yes!" he threw up his hands in exasperation. "Now, leave."

"Look, Ward," a new voice broke into the conversation, "we're not done talking." Ward looked over and groaned mentally as he saw two people joining him and the angry brunette in the alley. It was the scientist - Jemma. And that annoying man that followed her everywhere but always seemed lost in his own world. "I know that you're irritated and that you have some pretty intense psychological problems and anger issues," she continued, gesturing wildly at him as she approached, "but I am a _scientist_ and I am going to get my answers whether or not you want to cooperate. Understand?"

"Umm...who are you?" the new woman asked, peering over at the scientists.

"Oh, uh, Jemma. Simmons," she replied hastily, obviously irritated to be distracted from bothering Ward. "Who...who are you? A friend of his?"

"He has friends?" Fitz asked.

At the same time as his question, the new brunette scoffed, "Ha! No. And if you are, _please _take him away."

"Oh, that makes sense," Fitz muttered, shooting Ward a glare. He got the feeling that the man wasn't nearly as invested in Jemma's goals as he was in Jemma herself.

Ward clenched his fists, hoping that the action would distract him from all the people and help him keep his cool until he could get rid of them. "Why can't you just leave me alone? All of you!" he forced out between clenched teeth.

"If you would just answer some questions and let me take a blood sample…" Jemma started.

"She wants to take your blood? Are you all crazy?" The angry brunette looked shocked and a little concerned.

"I'm dangerous!" Ward interjected, nearly yelling to be heard overtop of all their babble. "Why does no one get that?" His last comment was made much more quietly and was directed more to himself than to them, but the new woman overheard.

"Oh, yeah," she rolled her eyes and gestured at him. "You're wearing a black t-shirt. I can practically smell the danger."

"A quick run of your DNA through my equipment…" Jemma tried again, but he cut her off.

"I don't have pow-."

"-not in front of civilians!" she interrupted, casting a suspicious glance at the brunette, then lowering her voice. "You realize that you're smoking and this entire alley smells like the inside of a fireplace, right?"

"I don't have superpowers!" he denied again, but his words sounded weak even to his own ears. After all, the alley did smell heavily like smoke and he was pretty sure that the pavement behind him hadn't yet solidified.

"But-" she protested, taking a step towards him and reaching out a hand.

"STOP!" he roared, sick of arguing with the infuriating woman. "If you say ONE MORE WORD…"

She flinched. He tried not to let her reaction make him feel guilty, but there was a part of him that was upset that he had scared her. No matter what kind of monster he was, he was not the type to yell at women. However, his outburst had served its purpose - everyone had fallen silent. Even Jemma.

Ward took advantage of the brief respite and started focusing on his breathing, trying to cool his internal body temperature to prevent another accident. Having lived with his abilities as long as he had, he knew that he was still in the danger zone and that anything could provoke him to explode again.

Jemma took another step towards him, but he held up a warning finger towards her and she thankfully halting, her eyes clearly showing concern. He didn't know why she would be concerned for him. It didn't make any sense.

Putting thoughts of her out of his head, he refocused on breathing deeply. In. Out.

"Seriously?" the brunette's sudden outburst interrupted his calming routine and he looked up at her in surprise. "What, in the name of all that is holy, is wrong with you guys?" she continued, her voice growing louder with every word. "Fire? Invisibility? Why do you guys keep yelling about superpowers and lab accidents and..and your freaking internal body temperature!?" That comment was accompanied with a pointed glare in his direction. Then, she switched her gaze to Fitz. "And you, Leo or whatever your name was, you seem fairly normal but are waffles really all you can talk about right now?"

"...what? How did you…?" Jemma asked, sounding bewildered and staring at her, her face mirroring the confusion that Ward felt. However, confusion was better than anger at this point. "Are you-?"

"Are you reading my thoughts?" Ward finished Jemma's sentence, staring unbelievingly at the brunette. There was no other way that she could have known about his attempt to lower his body temperature. However, the thought of her able to rifle through his thoughts... "Stay out of my head," he finally ordered.

"I don't-I wasn't _just _thinking about waffles," Fitz interjected and looked like he was about to continue, but Ward shot him a glare that made the man think better about saying anything more.

"Can you read minds?" Jemma asked, her confusion quickly and obviously morphing into excitement. "How does it work? Would you be willing to let me take a blood-"

The brunette's mouth was open and her eyes were wide with shock and...guilt? "Wh-what are you guys talking about? I can't-" she stuttered, but then took a deep breath and composed herself so that her face relaxed. "You guys are officially mental," she continued in a normal, almost conversational tone of voice. "I hope you get some help, I really do, but I'm out of here."

"I have to get out of this insane asylum," Ward agreed, figuring at this point that Jemma was not going to leave and he might have better luck finding somewhere else to finish letting off steam. He started to follow the creepy brunette out of the alley, but Jemma stepped in front of him. "Not so fast," she ordered, grabbing his arm.

He skin was unnaturally warm right now, but not unsafe to touch. At least, not yet. However, the chances of hurting her accidently had just skyrocketed. "You had better let me go right now before things get ugly." It came out like a threat, but really Ward was trying to save her from the potential consequences of her action.

Fitz walked up beside them, holding his hands up in a reassuring gesture. "Woah, hey there. Leave her alone." There was concern in his voice.

"Tell her to let go of me," Ward growled, his eyes flickering to each scientist, hoping that one of them would see reason and get her off of him.

The brunette had turned around at the sound of the confrontation, and now she started to walk back to them cautiously. "Dude, you've got nearly a foot on her," she commented, obviously working to keep her voice calming. "Why don't you just walk away?"

"I wish it were that simple." He did, he really did. It would be so easy to pull away and leave, but if she tried to stop him at all, he didn't know what his instinctual self-defense reflexes would do to her, and he refused to take that chance, no matter how much she irritated him.

"So, it's true," Jemma breathed, her grasp on his bicep shifting as she walked close to him. "You have powers!"

At this point, Ward knew that denying it wouldn't do anything. She had already proved that she was smart enough to see right through him. "I don't want to hurt you," he said instead, hoping that she would take the hint.

She didn't.

"I can help you. Study you." She looked up into his eyes earnestly, and he was struck again by the depth of caring she had for someone she had just barely met.

However, despite her sincerity, he still flinched as a bunch of old memories, memories that he had tried to forget, began to surface. Memories of screaming, of blinding lights, of men in surgical masks gathered above him...

Fitz's voice broke into his thoughts. "We're working on finding a cure. Well, we will be," he amended, still looking at Ward like he was a feral animal, "if you'll just let her do a few readings."

"Hold up," the brunette came a couple steps closer, interest clear in her eyes, "a cure? Not...not that I care."

"A cure," Jemma reaffirmed, not breaking her eyes contact with him. "If I let you go, are you going to run?"

Grinding his teeth, he considered his response carefully. The thought of a cure was tempting...extremely tempting. "No," he finally answered. "I'll help."

She smiled brilliantly at him and released her touch on his arm.

He expelled the breath that he hadn't realized that he had been holding, but didn't return her smile.

"Good, I'm glad to hear it," Jemma said softly. "So, everyone's coming home with me? I have a miniature lab in my apartment that'll do the trick."

Somehow, that didn't surprise Ward one bit.

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><p><em>Please review!<em>


	6. Chapter 6

_A/N: Alright guys, this is the chapter where the characters will be split up! Now we can focus almost exclusively on the BioSpecialist relationship =)._

_IMPORTANT NOTE: This fic is co-authored by __**therealshawn**__, and she and I are also co-authoring the other side of this fic on her account. It is called __**"Monsters in your Head" **__and shows this same story from the Skitz viewpoint. I strongly suggest reading them both! This fic will be a complete story by itself, as will the other one, but they will complement each other, give you scenes that you normally wouldn't see, and give you large parts of the story that happen when the characters are split up._

_Anyways, enjoy!_

* * *

><p>"Tell me what I'm thinking," the scientist ordered Skye. Ward rolled his eyes, irritated. This had been going on for a while and he wished that he could just escape already.<p>

"I can't. I told you, it doesn't work like that. I can't just read your mind."

"How exactly do your powers work, then? Because, in the alley…"

Skye sighed long-sufferingly. "It's not like in the movies, where you read someone's mind and hear a stream of dialogue. Nobody thinks like that. Your minds are a constant jumble of words and feelings and pictures and half-formed ideas. When I'm in control and really intent on someone, I can usually pick up on just bits and pieces of what's going through their mind at that particular time."

Ward watched with interest as Jemma stabbed the other woman and took a blood sample, the action not even making her pause in her stream of questions. "So, how do you make sense of it all?"

"Umm, I don't, really. I try to avoid using...reading thoughts as often as I can."

"Fascinating," the scientist breathed, her eyes intently examining her sample. "Okay, you're done. At least for now."

"So, now you can find a cure?" Ward jumped into the conversation.

"If I just had a centrifuge and a couple detoxifying agents," she muttered to herself, ignoring his question.

"So...what exactly is it that you're looking for...in our blood?"

"Hmm?" she looked up at the sound of Skye's question, then shrugged. "I don't know, really. Any anomalies, especially if the anomalies are common to all three of our samples."

"Any luck?" Ward turned and saw the other scientist, Fitz enter the room from the kitchen area.

"I'm just getting started," Jemma replied.

"Hurry up," Ward growled, glaring balefully around the room. There were too many people, people who knew about his abilities.

She shot him an annoyed glance. "Blood sample aren't exactly simple," she told him. "I'd love to see you try to have one analyzed by now."

"Aren't you supposed to be some genius scientist or something?" he demanded, standing to loom over her. She seemed so tiny next to his size, but that just made him more angry. He couldn't just intimidate her, because he couldn't deliberately hurt a helpless woman.

"I am!" she responded hotly, putting down her sample and putting her hands on her hips. "But the constant interruptions are hardly speeding matters up."

He glared at her. "Why did I even bother coming?" he muttered, more to himself than to her.

"Look, I'm just _trying_ to help," she shot back.

"Well, try faster!" he knew that he was being irrational, but he was so sick of people and needles and having stupid powers.

"Okay!" Skye caught their attention, breaking into the argument. "Leo and I are going to the grocery store for a little bit. You guys want anything? No? Okay, bye!"

The door slammed behind them before either had a chance to respond. Ward couldn't shake the feeling that they were trying to escape - judging from the stunned look on Jemma's face, she shared his opinion.

...

"Would you please stop doing that?" Jemma glanced up from her microscope at Ward, who was pacing around her apartment angrily.

It had only been a couple minutes since Fitz had left with Skye, and already being alone with the strangely attractive man was irritating her and interrupting her work. At least the yelling match was over, though. For now.

Ward looked out the window, moving aside her lacy curtains to see better. "This isn't a secure location," he told her firmly. "I can't get a clear view of the street below - anyone could be following or waiting to ambush us. We'd never know."

"No one's following us," she sighed, rolling her eyes at his paranoia. "Now, if you could just sit still and be quiet for a couple minutes, I might be able to make some progress in my analysis of your blood sample."

Ward grunted, but he did take a seat on the couch, his body tilted so that he had a clear view out the window and onto the street. "At least you're on the first floor," he muttered. "Better escape routes."

"Working," she reminded him, not even looking up this time to glare at him. He always just ignored her when she did that anyways.

They sat in silence for a couple moments, until Ward finally stood and came to look over her shoulder. "Find anything?"

"Actually," she replied, "it's fascinating. Your blood...well, it's different. So is mine, and so is Skye's. But each sample is unique and I haven't yet found any similarities between the three - other than that we are all still obviously human."

"So, what's the next step?" he asked, leaning over her to peer through the microscope as well.

His proximity distracted her - she could feel the heat radiating off of him. She told herself that the blush on her cheeks was purely because of his warmth, not because his well-muscled arm was merely inches away from her face.

"Umm, well," she stuttered, "I...I need a DNA sample. The changes must have happened on the cellular level, at least that's what I hypothesize, but I'm going to need to analyze our DNA to be sure."

Ward nodded curtly. "How much longer until you find a solution?"

She chuckled and shook her head. "Patience. It's going to take some time."

"We don't have time," he said ominously, standing up and returning to his place on the couch, his eyes constantly alert for any sign of danger.

Jemma refocused on her work, peering into the microscope again and taking precise notes on the pad of paper next to her.

Suddenly, Ward shot up off the couch and was standing next to her, his usually pretty impassive face showing a touch of fear. "We have to go," he ordered, "now."

"What?" she demanded, confused. "Why? Fitz and Skye aren't even-"

"There's no time," he insisted, grabbing her arm and pulling her up out of her seat. His touch was warm, but not uncomfortably so. Shouldn't his hand be burning her? She didn't really have time to dwell on that thought. She knew what he could do when he got upset, and she really didn't want to be around him if he was about to explode.

"Ward," she gasped as he started pulling her towards the back of the apartment, "maybe you should take a moment. Calm down."

He didn't even slow his pace at her words. "There's someone outside. Someone that...that you really don't want to meet."

"How do you know?"

"Cars."

"That could be anyone," she protested as Ward finally stopped in her bedroom, but only long enough to push open the window and tear out the screen.

"It's not - I know him." Ward paused for a second and looked directly at her, and there was something in his eyes that told her not to argue, that this really was as serious as he said. "Now, go," he continued, gesturing to the window.

"Out there? I can't-"

Ward interrupted her by kneeling down and offering her a step to use to propel herself out. "Go."

Jemma didn't think - Ward's obvious anxiety was contagious - so she obeyed and found herself standing outside, joined by Ward only seconds later.

"This way," he ordered, shooting a glance around, making sure that there was no one around.

Jemma glanced over her shoulder nervously, but followed where Ward led despite her reluctance to abandon her research.

She shouldn't trust him, but for some reason, she did.

…

"Where are we going?"

Ward stared straight ahead, walking determinedly towards...well, he wasn't exactly sure where they were going. However, he certainly wasn't going to tell her that. It would just be one more thing for her to talk or argue about.

"And what was that all about?" she continued demanding. "Because I think I have a right to know the reason why you grab me, make me leave my apartment through my bedroom window, and are now on the run to who knows where. And this time, I want specifics."

"Just...stop talking," he finally ordered. "This is all your fault." His voice was not quite loud enough to be considered yelling, but it was close. "I'm just trying to save your life."

"Excuse me?" she stopped walking and put her hands on her hips. "How is this _my_ fault?"

"I've avoided him for years," he grunted, lowering his voice as felt his control start to slip away. He couldn't afford a mistake, not right now. "But when you show up, he finds me in less than a day. Coincidence?"

She just stood there, a stunned look on her face. It was obviously too much for her to take in, so he just grabbed her hand again and continued leading her away, hoping soon that he would find somewhere safe to lie low for a bit.

…

The man looked at the photo in his hands contemplatively. "Good job," he told the photographer.

The picture showed a tall, well-built man with dark hair leading away a girl with straight brown hair and a nervous expression on her face. Ward and the scientist girl.

He had nearly dismissed Jemma Simmons - following that accident, everything had seemed completely normal and he had almost removed the men he had tracking her phone and every move.

But then, she had lead him directly to his goal - Ward.

"Find them," he ordered to the men around him, all trained assassins. "Kill her, but bring him to me."

The men nodded and left.

The man leaned back in his chair and continued to gaze at the photograph. Close. He was so close.

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><p><em>Please review and give me ideas for what you'd like to see in the future!<em>


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